


What’s in the Pincer is There Forever

by Kiyuo_Honoo



Category: Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: Alt-Mode Sexual Interfacing, Cannibalism, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Docking, Face-Fucking, M/M, Minor Depth Charge/Rampage (Transformers), Mutual Non-Con, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Painful Sex, Threesome - M/M/M, Triple Penetration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:14:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28181496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiyuo_Honoo/pseuds/Kiyuo_Honoo
Summary: Rampage gets a hold of Cheetor and bad things proceed to happen.
Relationships: Cheetor/Depth Charge/Rampage (Transformers), Cheetor/Rampage (Transformers)
Kudos: 15





	What’s in the Pincer is There Forever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CNS](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CNS/gifts), [Inky_Squid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inky_Squid/gifts).



> **Please Read:** The first instance of cannibalism happens on screen, there's another part that happens off-screen. Throat fucking via tongue, and sex injuries.
> 
> Thanks to everyone in a valveplug server for helping me out during this long process. <3

Normally Cheetor didn’t have an issue scouting on his own, no matter how much Optimus preferred them to be paired up. He wasn’t _technically_ alone, the feline had caught Depth Charge on his sensors so there was at least one bot that would be able to get to his position quick enough if any issues came up. And that was if Depth Charge stayed in the area and even _bothered_ to answer any distress signal from them.

Cheetor liked Depth Charge, even if it was based solely on his appearance since his attitude could use a tune-up, but Optimus didn’t like him much. Boss Bot tolerated the other well enough but he wasn’t going to do anything that would cause a fight.

And that’s not even mentioning what _Dinobot_ would do to the manta ray.

Right now though? Something was putting Cheetor on edge. His sensors had started going haywire, scattered false blips were showing up on his hud leaving Cheetor crouched to the ground. He almost wished he wasn’t a Transmetal at that moment or was able to have false fur again as it would have helped blend him into the yellowing grassland he was in. His optics kept shifting to the rock formations scattered across the landscape, almost expecting a Predacon to be hiding and using another signal scrambler on them.

No Predacon jumped out, and the only sound he could hear was the wind softly rustling the grass. It was a little _too_ quiet. Not even the sound of birds echoed and any wildlife he knew was in the area had gone quiet or disappeared from immediate view. Not like Cheetor was able to see any of the organic animals from his position now pressed belly flat on the ground.

Cheetor _really_ wished he took up Dinobot’s offer of joining him.

He cautiously slinked through the grass, keeping to his low position in an effort to stay as hidden as he could with his chrome plating. Cheetor froze before he even took his next step, audials twitching at the sudden noise echoing loudly in the quiet. The Maximal couldn’t pinpoint where it came from. But it made him nervous.

Setting down his hovering paws as quietly as he could, pistons hissed as Cheetor sunk lower to the ground if that was possible. Optics were wide as they darted about, trying to catch any glimpse of what made that noise.

Nonexistent hackles raised as a sudden foreboding feeling appeared behind him. Cheetor sprung up with a yelp, turning mid-air and landing on his paws feet away. In time to avoid the massive pinchers slamming into the ground where he was kliks before.

Oh frag, it was Rampage. That would explain Depth Charge’s signal in the area.

Cheetor’s frame sank as the realization suddenly overcame him. _Oh frag, it was Rampage_. He definitely wasn’t able to fight that crazy Predacon on his own.

Jumping away from those pinchers again, Cheetor turned tail to run. He was called reckless, mostly by Rattrap, when engaging Predacons alone but after last time he was _not_ trying his chance against Rampage. He was barely in the sky when his tail was grabbed. The impact rattled his processor and made his optics fritz.

Claws scraped at the ground as Cheetor tried to get up even with his equilibrium all messed up and his optical feed a glitching mess. The Transmetal cheetah only managed to right himself before a shadow was cast over him. Cheetor’s audials pinned back as he slowly looked up, glitching optics staring wide open up at the cannibal hovering over him.

He didn’t even see the claw swinging at his helm until his optical feed went black.

  
  


Booting up was slow progress. Even with his optical feed still a mess, it didn’t hide the multitude of alerts popping up on his hud. It took a bit for his sensors to fully come online.

He almost wished they hadn’t.

There were hands on his frame. Hands with claws being dragged over his frame and touching _everywhere_. It was only when those claws started scoring deep lines down his sides that the pain registered in his circuits. The smell of staling energon finally reached his oral sensors.

Cheetor could barely move his helm, it lolled to the side as he tried to look behind himself. He couldn’t see much, not with static still filtering through his feed. What he did manage to see was the source of his pain and the smell of energon.

Plating rattled as terror shot through Cheetor’s processor as he watched Rampage through the static feed. He remembered hearing the mech was a cannibal, Primus, the mech had threatened eating others before. But to actually see the larger mech _eating_ his rockets. The entire winglet was ripped off, and if the pain coming from his other side meant anything, the other one must have already been devoured.

He rolled his helm, not wanting to see Rampage slowly devouring metal that used to be attached to himself just a mega-cycle ago. Trying to ignore the other didn’t last long. An energon covered hand appeared, gripping his muzzle and pulling his helm up and back to gaze into cold green optics.

Claws light tapped at his face, one dragging lightly under his optic almost as a silent warning. “Finally awake, are you? You took so long I got hungry,” those acid optics narrowed as Rampage’s voice dropped, “you taste delicious. But I don’t want to eat you. Not yet. I have something else planned for you.”

That dark tone did not bode well for the Maximal.

Cheetor expected Rampage to drop his helm but the Predacon didn’t. He gently laid his chin back on the ground before putting his hands on his neck and dragging them over his plating, claws nicking a few areas as they were added. That’s all Rampage did for cycles. Run his hands and claws along the Maximal’s frame which had quickly gone tense, plating slicked close to protoform and rattling occasionally before settling down.

Those dangerous hands settled on his hips, rubbing against the plating in what would otherwise be a soothing motion from any Maximal, but from a Predacon? It only wound Cheetor’s circuits tighter with fear. A thumb rubbed the base of his tail, the tip twitching at the feeling against the bundle of sensors there, as the Predacon’s other thumb rubbed the back of his thigh.

It was uncomfortable and confusing. Cheetor’s optics were still fritzing, so even if he could look back at Rampage without the other forcing his helm back into position, he wouldn’t be able to make much out.

The hand resting low on his back started to move, wrapping around his tail and sliding down the segmented length almost to the end, stopping before what would be the handle were he in mech form. That dip of segment was rubbed as his tail was pulled up and curved over his back. His hips flexed at the slightly uncomfortable pull of the microcables being stretched in a way they shouldn’t be.

That massive hand pressed his tail against his back. Even after being touched for who knows how long now, it still made Cheetor flinch. And it wasn’t until that moment that Cheetor fully realized how much _bigger_ Rampage was compared to him. The Predacon’s palm laid over his back, covering the entire surface, and those clawed digits were wrapped around his sides. Not tightly, just resting there even as those claw tips dug into his plating the tiniest bit.

Even though it wasn’t needed, the weight kept the Maximal pressed to the floor. The next touch had Cheetor jolting up, wanting to get away but that hand just pressed down, keeping him put with practically no effort on the Predacon’s part.

Hindquarters twitched, cables flexing at the urge to _get away_ from the strange touch behind him. The hand not holding him down was touching his panel. A place Boss Bot _and_ Dinobot had told him no one should touch without explicit permission from him. And Rampage was touching without him saying he could. He wanted to tell him to stop, he really did, but the only noise that escaped his vocalizer was static filled whines.

The rubbing stopped, only for Rampage to shift Cheetor’s lower frame so his hind legs were tucked under and his aft lifted in the air. It didn’t make the touching any better once Rampage started up again. The click of his panels shifting away was loud in the quiet space, the sudden noise and feeling of air rushing against his bare components caused his tail to shake, a rattling sounding from the links vibrating against each other.

Rampage made a shushing noise behind him, the Predacon’s thumb returning to rub against the silicone seals covering his ports. In beast mode, all three sealed ports were stacked beneath his tail. (It was extremely embarrassing when not only Dinobot but Tigatron as well checked him over.)

Cheetor kneaded at the ground as a large digit rubbed against the seals. The feeling was weird, especially as it made his frame start to react in a way he wasn't familiar with. He wanted to shift his weight but the hand on his back kept him still. The occasional shake his tail did from the sensations couldn’t even get free of the Predacon’s grip.

Rampage didn’t even _do_ anything else. Just kept him pinned and rubbed his seals. What he knew of the Predacon, this definitely wasn’t his style and it scared him. Cheetor’s engine rumbled in fear and something he was hesitant to call pleasure. He tried to keep his mind away from the touches but the sudden trickling of wetness down his panel had every strut going stiff.

That _definitely_ wasn’t supposed to happen.

The vibration from the massive Predacon rumbling behind him shook through his frame, that equally massive thumb swiping through the fluid and rubbing over his seals again. The hand finally pulled away, but it didn’t help calm Cheetor down at all. Who knows what the creep was up to now.

He quickly got his answer as the hand, now damp with fluids, came around to slip under his helm. The grip, _soft_ as it was, was used to pull his helm up and back. Cheetor let out a low hiss at the strain to his neck cables and shoulders from the position he was bent into. It put the young Maximal into a _very_ uncomfortable realization of how much bigger Rampage actually was to him.

Those acidic greens just stared at him. Rampage didn’t move or _do anything_ for a few kliks, but it was long enough for terror-filled shivers to start wracking Cheetor’s frame. Trapped staring at the dangerous mech’s face, it allowed the unfortunate ability to glimpse a flash of something bright inside the dark abyss that was Rampage’s intake.

With his attention so distracted by watching the cannibal’s energon covered maw with terror, Cheetor didn’t even notice when those large fingers shifted their grip until two of those sharp talons were shoved into his muzzle and his mouth was pried open. He tried to struggle but the force was too much for his still weak frame.

Cheetor _really_ wished his optics hadn’t stopped glitching at that point because seeing the _long pointed glossa_ colored the sickliest yellowish-white he’s ever seen slithering out of Rampage’s mouth had him trying to gag, especially as the fluid coating it dripped down into his mouth. The cheetah Maximal’s processor almost couldn’t come to terms with the burst of sea salt that exploded across his taste sensors even as the thickness of the fluid sliding down his glossa and into his throat still had him gagging.

Those optics continued to watch him, but Cheetor was too focused on the lurid looking glossa getting closer to his face to bother. He tried one last time to pull away and close his maw, both attempts failing as Rampage’s helm got much too close for comfort. And that’s when that disgusting glossa was shoved straight down his throat.

Cheetor’s frame jolted, optics rolling back as one squinted from the sensation of the other mech’s appendage wiggling against his throat tubing. His tubing stretched uncomfortably from the sheer size, and unfortunately for Cheetor, Rampage didn’t just stick to wiggling his glossa about. Oh no, that massive appendage wiggled out before shoving back down. Again. And again.

Cheetor’s optics had rolled too far back, and even if they weren’t they were so bleached white, his vision was too distorted again, that he didn’t even realize Rampage now had their mouths pressed together, giving him better range to shove his glossa as far down the Maximal’s throat as possible. It was becoming too much, Cheetor could vaguely feel his processor starting to shut down.

  
  


Rampage pulled away with a growl as the Maximal went limp in his grasp. He stared down at the blackened optics staring blankly up at him. What a disappointment. He dropped his prey’s head, uncaring as it slammed onto the ground.

An utter shame the Maximal had passed out, quite disappointing as well. Rampage wasn’t done having his fun. Hmm, perhaps he could contain himself from just having his fun with the delectable mech now. It wouldn’t be as fun if he didn’t get to feed on the terror and pain he would be causing after all.

And perhaps it was a good thing the Maximal had passed out, it allowed Rampage to leave the kitty where he was without the worry of his prey crawling away while he dealt with the intruder heading toward them. Rampage flicked his glossa out just thinking about the meal he was going to have. Devouring either would have to be put on hold.

He had a better meal planned. Now to get Depth Charge where he wanted him.

  
  


The smell was the first thing that he noticed as Depth Charge started powering up. The slightest bit of ozone filled his nasal passages, but there was another smell accompanying it. The manta ray didn’t know what exactly it was, but it had what he could only process as a _slimy_ smell that wasn’t very pleasant to his senses.

He didn’t bother onlining his optics. Not yet. Unfortunately, it meant he could hear a strange wet sound much more clearly, it almost sounded like gagging was accompanying it as well. Depth Charge tried to ignore it as he attempted to shift, only to find his legs and arms tied. He couldn’t even get any leverage due to laying on his arms and his legs felt tied in a way there was no way he was using them to stand.

There was a painful sensation rippling down the sensors on his back and it took only a few kliks to realize exactly what it was. Of course, Rampage wouldn’t have left him whole, and to take the pseudo wings his alt-mode required was a sure way to keep him from transforming into the faster sea mode.

A drop of fluid dripping onto his faceplate finally had Depth Charge onlining his optics. And he almost wished he didn’t. But he couldn’t bring himself to turn them off, not now that he could see exactly what those sounds were. The manta ray turned his helm, his engine rumbling in displeasure, but it didn’t stop him from witnessing X’s spike sliding in and out of the feline’s maw.

More droplets hit his turned face and Depth Charge couldn’t help himself, not when in the presence of X, “You are disgusting and your manners could use work.”

A dark laugh was his answer before a clawed hand slammed onto his face and forced his helm back into position so he was looking up. Just in time to watch X slide his spike out of Cheetor’s mouth. The small Maximal coughed, glossa hanging out as his head hung down to spill a mix of pre-transfluid and energon from the cuts and tears those pointed barbs caused.

If he had a mouth, Depth Charge would be frowning at the faded optics but his attention was distracted by those sharp talons brushing against the cat’s neck, the red plating bright against the silver. X’s face appeared next to the cat’s, that disgusting glossa sliding out and wiggling. His engine growled as the fluid splattered onto his faceplate to add to the mess already there.

“I’m quite pleased you could join us old friend, your help is appreciated in breaking this delectable morsel.”

Those claws screeched against Cheetor’s neck before releasing him and letting him clang against Depth Charge’s chassis. If it wasn’t for the occasional cough and still lit optics, Depth Charge would have assumed the feline to be offline if not dead. He turned his attention away to glare at X who only looked smug for a mech without a mouth capable of expressing any emotion.

X stood, giving a very unnecessary view of his spike still coated in fluids as he stepped around to kneel between Depth Charge’s splayed legs. Once it appeared X had settled, the cat was lifted from his chassis and held pressed against the slagger’s own chassis. Depth Charge had an idea of what X wanted him involved with if his pressurized spike and words of _breaking_ was any indication.

What he didn’t expect was to be shown quite clearly what X actually meant. It had been a very long time since he had seen another mech with seals still present during trysts. Seeing those glistening seals was a rude awakening about how much younger the Maximal cat was compared to his millions of years.

Depth Charge tore his optics away from Cheetor’s array to glare at X, who still looked way too pleased with himself as he rubbed his claws against the cat’s neck. It appeared the cat had finally started to come out of it a bit as his optics were brighter and his optics were switching between clenching closed or blowing wide.

Depth Charge’s frame tensed as Cheetor was dropped back onto him. The cat didn’t stay splayed across his chassis for long before X dragged the cat backward by his sides. He stiffened even further as Cheetor’s helm was left to rest on his codpiece. X didn’t stop there though, he rested his hand on his plating, dragging the tip of his thumb in front of Cheetor’s nose.

“I suggest you open up,” X tapped his claw against Depth Charger’s plating, “before I decide to rip it off and eat it.”

Depth Charge was _extremely_ tempted to ignore the threat but after chasing the monster for four years he wasn’t going to make that mistake. Not when he knew X would gladly and gleefully do it. He continued to glare as he let his panel slide away.

X tutted as he slipped a hand under the cat’s helm and lifted it up. The manta ray continued to glare, twitching as those claws skimmed around his spike housing. He wasn’t going to give the piece of slag what he wanted. Unfortunately in the end it didn’t seem like he had a choice.

He was so focused on X’s smug face that the sudden rush of warm air had his hips jolting and optics snapping away from X’s face to see exactly what was happening. Depth Charge’s engine revved loudly in anger and frustration. While he wasn’t looking, X had managed to pry open the cat’s mouth and was pressing his muzzle tight over his spike housing.

His frame was starting to react, the heavy pants combined with the fluids still dripping from the cat’s mouth was not helping his resolve. It didn’t take long before his spikes started pressurizing, sliding out of his housing straight into the cat’s mouth. Depth Charge barely noticed Cheetor trying to back away as his spikes stretched the smaller Maximal’s mouth wide.

Depth Charge didn’t want to watch but he forced himself to keep his optics on the other two. He had to know exactly what X was doing. His optics couldn’t even stay trained on X’s face, not when the monster wasn’t meeting his anger head-on. No, his gaze was trained down, down where he was forcing the feline’s helm further down his dual spikes.

The manta ray wanted to deny the jolt through his frame, just from witnessing his spikes disappear deeper in Cheetor’s mouth. The cat was drooling heavily all over his lap and didn’t seem to be all there if the glazed and dimmed optics were any indication of his state.

X’s engine rumbled, no doubt to the sight he was forcing and enjoying. Depth Charge didn’t dare exvent as heavy as he wished to as X finally pulled the cat’s mouth off his spikes. He couldn’t help but stare at his pressurized spikes, both were coated heavily in oral lubricant and the other fluids that had still been coating the inside of the cat’s mouth. Depth Charge was almost ashamed at the rev his engine gave at seeing that only a few inches from his spike housing wasn’t coated in fluid like the rest of his spikes. Primus, the cat was actually close to taking both his spikes fully into his intake.

Depth Charge looked up, watching as X lifted Cheetor, settling him in front of his spikes and leaning him against his chest, the position practically displaying him to their optics. The seals were still there, three glistening and clear seals covering both ports and spike housing. X made a show of rubbing against the seals and pressing on them, not enough to break through, but enough to show how pliant he had managed to get them.

By now the cat had started to shift, a paw clawing at the arm between his legs and the other digging into X’s other arm. The action was useless of course, even with those claws being as sharp as they were, they weren’t piercing through X’s armor any time soon. Depth Charge was almost impressed that the cat hadn’t started running his mouth yet.

X met Depth Charge’s optics, “I believe it’s time for the main event, don’t you?” X’s alt-mode legs curled in, latching onto Cheetor and pressing him against the monster’s chest, “How thoughtful of me to leave these intact, now you have the honor of assisting me in breaking them.”

An actual growl rumbled through his chassis as X wrapped his hands around his spikes. X only glanced up at the noise, flicking his glossa out in a taunting manner before going back to, what Depth Charge assumed was, admiring his equipment.

“Hmm, quite big aren’t you? That shouldn’t be an issue, after all,” X purred as he shifted Depth Charge’s spikes to press against Cheetor’s seals. The cat had started to babble, pleading with X even as the monster ignored them, “if his mouth was able to take them, surely his ports can as well?”

The scream almost busted the manta ray’s audials as heat encased a third of his spikes, hot fluid pouring down to pool around his spike housing. Depth Charge forced his optics open, focusing them on X and Cheetor. Optical fluid was spilling from whitened optics, gasps and sobs escaping the felines vocalizer as his frame shook violently.

He barely glanced at X, not wanting to deal with the smugness he could already feel radiating off his nemesis, before looking down and stiffening. His spikes were in Cheetor’s ports. And from the position, he just knew his top spike was in the spike housing. There was a crack in the port rim, most likely multiple from the rough entry, it was barely visible through the energon seeping from the injury.

Depth Charge wished he could say the sight didn’t cause a reaction, but then he would be a liar. He felt his spikes pulse as he took in the sight of them being shoved into ports much too small and one not even made to take another bot’s spike. It must not have gone unnoticed to X, not when the action had Cheetor hiccuping a wet sob.

“If only you could taste his fear and pain. Oh yes, his pain is so delicious and it will only get sweeter,” That sickly white glossa slid out again, dragging up Cheetor’s face and wiping off the optical fluid and replacing it with the slime covering his glossa, “We’ve just started after all.”

The cat let out a short, sharp cry as X’s extra legs curled further in, the tips piercing through the thick metal. He couldn’t stop his optics from glancing down at the tapping, watching X’s hands wrap fully around Cheetor’s hips and easily covering his waist as well. A few kliks passed without X doing anything and Depth Charge was about to snap at him when his hands suddenly tightened around the cat’s hips and yanked him down. Hard.

An audial piercing yowl echoed through the cave.

Depth Charge jerked in his bonds, trying and failing to pull away from the suddenly painful grip around his spikes. It took a few tries before his optics were able to online from the sudden shocks through his system. A new pain started to register in the manta ray’s frame, and when he tilted his helm to the side and down he saw the reason. One of X’s alt-mode limbs was through his side, energon beading around the injury and dripping down to puddle on the ground. And if the pain meant anything, there was another in his other side.

That extra limb flexed before jerking, a choked noise leaving Depth Charge at the burst of pain even as X laughed.

“Pay attention. I can’t have you ignoring his pain now, can we? And just look, he’s taking your spikes _so very well_.”

Depth Charge would have preferred not to look but he turned his helm anyways and froze even more than he already was if that was even physically possible. Their arrays were flushed together, and that was _definitely_ energon spilling down the sides of Depth Charge’s hips. His vents stuttered at the sight of his spike being fully encased in Cheetor’s spike housing.

But not without injury. There was a large crack in his plating from the rim up, several more cracks were visible leaking viable fluid. Slag. Depth Charge pulled his optics away to look at the cat’s face. Optical fluid was spilling down without any sign of stopping and fluid dripped heavily from the cat’s mouth.

He shifted to glaring at X as the monster leaned forward and pressed his mandibles to Cheetor’s tear-stained face. The cat didn’t even react.

“Pretty thing isn’t he?” X purred, glossa flicking out and swiping fluid off the cat’s face, “A pleasant surprise that he managed to take your spikes so well, don’t you think?” He brushed his talons against the injured port, causing Cheetor to jerk and let out a static whine even as he grew stiff and still again.

X clicked his glossa, “That’s not going to work. We aren’t even halfway there yet.”

“Don’t —!”

Too late. X had his hands wrapped tightly around Cheetor’s waist again, and with a quick move, lifted the cheetah former up and slammed him back down. Cheetor screeched, his claws scraping against X’s arms as he started trying to pull away. X just continued to laugh, moving the cat like a — like a _spikesleeve_ , ignoring the static-filled cries and chirps.

His sensors were a jumbled mix of pain and pleasure. Cheetor’s ports were much too small to take his spikes, and that was ignoring the fact that _spikes did not go into other mech’s spike housings_. And yet the tightness and wet warmth still managed to keep his spikes rigid. It allowed X to continue to move the cat with ease.

  
  


Rampage rumbled a purr, glossa sliding out and licking a wet stripe on the back of the kitten’s neck. Oh, how tempting it was to just take another bite, but he didn’t want to ruin this one. Not too badly at least. The feline was just too tasty to devour, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t _eat_. He was already thinking of how to keep the kitten in the back of his processor as he focused more on the pleasure of now.

As pleasing as it was to watch his old friend’s reactions, he was getting bored of letting him have all the pleasure. His spike was still pressurized, pre-fluid leaking from the tip that he made sure to rub over the kitten’s back in such a feral claim.

With another harsh slam, he pressed their hips together, grinding the kitten’s hips around on the spikes he sat on. His mandibles shivered and clicked. Two ports down, only one to go.

The kitten was so very small compared to them. His hand covered the little morsel's helm as he pushed the kitten flat onto his front. Rampage made optic contact with Depth Charge as he dragged his claws down the kitten’s back, through the pre-fluid he had smeared on that chrome plating, to grip the base of that slender tail.

Rampage curled that delicate tail around his hand, forcing the segments to unlatch and make it much more flexible, and pulled it up the kitten’s back to reveal the still sealed port underneath. He pressed against the softened seal, delighting in the jerk and resulting whine the kitten let out from pulling against the two spikes swollen in his ports

The sheer fact that Depth Charge hadn’t depressurized was so rewarding in its own way. And Rampage was going to be holding that over the fish for a long time.

He removed his thumb, only to grab his spike and press the tip against the seal. His other hand shifted to pressing the kitten down. And then he slammed his spike home.

The resulting yowl was music to Rampage’s audials. He invented deeply, savoring the taste of pain and the unyielding port clenching tightly to his spike. Rampage hummed, rotating his hips against Cheetor’s. It resulted in the kitten letting out a spitting hiss, the tip of that flexible tail shaking violently enough that the still unlatched segments rattled.

Rampage couldn’t help but let out a low laugh as he felt the throbbing of Depth Charge’s spike inside. The fish was definitely a liar if he thought he could get away with saying fucking the kitten didn’t get him all charged up. Rampage started moving his hips shallowly, he was in no rush to get to the end. And plus, it would be much _much_ sweeter to get Depth Charge to overload first.

A low growl had started up, the sound barely loud enough to hear, especially with the occasional spitting hiss the kitten kept making. Of course, having such a barbed spike up one's aft had to be quite unpleasant. Not like Rampage cared, the pain radiating from Cheetor just fueled him even more.

Sliding his spike out till only the tip was still in, Rampage looked down at the energon streaked across his spike from the barbs scraping harshly against the aft tubing. He pressed Cheetor down, harder against Depth Charge’s frame to keep the kitten from thrashing more than he already was. He slammed his spike back in, letting out a cruel laugh as his meal tried to twist in his grip but ultimately failed.

Rampage started up a fast and brutal pace, quickly turning those growls and hisses into painful keens. The aft port was still tight around his spike, but the spilled energon made it easier to thrust.

It was a shame that Depth Charge wasn’t being so vocal. It couldn’t be easy keeping to making such low grunts with his spikes engulfed in two tight ports. Oh well, he had other means of making his old friend sing.

He could feel his charge building, but he wasn’t going first. Oh no, Depth Charge was going first. With his free hand, Rampage dragged his claws along the fish’s seams. Electricity jumped between those seams and his claws and Rampage dug deep, flicking against the lines hidden underneath the thick plates of armor. He removed his claws and dragged them down, closer to Depth Charge’s array.

Even without stopping his rapid pace, Rampage managed to get his hand close enough to start dragging his claws along blue plating and up the charge jumping out.

“Come on now. Surely you’re louder overloading than you have been this whole time?”, he dug his claws into the spike housing, “ _Overload_ already.”

Depth Charge’s hips jolted, his helm going back as charge noticeably rippled across his plating. Rampage hilted himself, grinding the thick barbs at the bottom base of his spike against the opening of Cheetor’s aft port as he enjoyed the rush of heat he could feel through the aft tubing as Depth Charge finally overloaded.

The kitten tried to trash but with Rampage still holding him down, it was a pointless struggle. He pulled his claws away as trickles of transfluid started to pour out of the kitten’s ruined ports, tapping and dragging them up the chrome plating to slip his hand between his two prey.

Rampage purred, pressing up against Cheetor’s lower stomach as he felt the plating shift and bulge a bit as he was filled with transfluid. He wrapped his hands around Cheetor’s lower stomach, easily overlapping his fingers as he tightened his grip, pressing against the swollen plating and the spikes still seated inside.

He pulled out, quickly slamming back in as he hunched over his prey and bringing him face to face with Depth Charge. Rampage released one of his hands to slam it next to Depth Charge’s shoulder to keep his balance as he kept up the new harsh pace. The glare he was getting only made Rampage laugh, letting his glossa slide out of his mouth to watch the squinting of those optics and the feeling of _disgust_ that flared from his field was perfect.

But not as delicious as it could be.

His charge was coming on faster now that he wasn’t waiting for Depth Charge. Sitting up, Rampage used his now free hand to grab Cheetor’s neck and jaw, tilting the kitten’s head back, and with his optics still locked with Depth Charge’s, shoved his glossa down the kitten’s throat.

Throat tubing clenched against his glossa as Cheetor gagged. And just like he did before, Rampage ignored it. The stronger flare of disgust was exactly what Rampage had been aiming for. He groaned against Cheetor’s mouth, hips stuttering before he pressed tight to the kitten’s aft and overloaded. His spike twitched as transfluid continued being pumped into Cheetor, there was so much of it that it had started to spill out around his spike.

He pulled his glossa out, taking notice that the kitten was close to passing out _again_. Disappointing. Rampage would have to teach him how to stay awake.

He dropped Cheetor against Depth Charge with a satisfying clang and slid his spike out. It twitched, shooting a few more stripes of transfluid onto the kitten’s back. He rumbled appreciatively at the messy sight. He chuckled, Depth Charge’s spikes were still pressurized. Rampage highly doubted it was because the other still had charge keeping them that way, it was more likely that Cheetor’s ports were too small for him to depressurize enough to slip out.

Rampage’s optics dragged down to Depth Charge’s codpiece. He hummed as he placed his palm against the burning panel. Interesting. Glancing back at the fish’s visage, he dug his claws into the seams, and just as he expected it slid back with the silent warning. He would have preferred to rip it off but if Depth Charge really wanted to keep him from his fun, fine. He’ll find other ways to have fun.

Like having a go at his valve.

A trickle of lubricant slipped from the now bared valve.

Rampage rubbed his fingers against the port, smearing the small bit of lubricant against the opening before sliding a few in. Rampage fully intended to slide his digits all the way in, what he didn’t expect was for them to bump against something halfway in. He carefully felt the blockage.

His optics brightened as he realized what it was. Keeping his fingers buried as far as they were able to in Depth Charge’s valve, he leaned over and dragged his glossa across the manta ray’s face. The disgusted noise and attempt at avoiding it only made him laugh.

“I can taste your fear old friend. To think you were holding onto this for so long. I think it’s time we took care of it don’t you?”

Depth Charge rumbled a growl at him, and of course, Rampage ignored it. He was too tied up to try anything as it was. And a growl wasn’t going to stop him. Pulling back, Rampage pulled his fingers out, clicking his mandibles together at the small amount of lubricant covering his fingers.

Oh, well. The manta will be leaking soon enough. And not all of it was going to be lubricant.

He was just about ready to position his spike at the untaken port when a screech echoed in the cave and talons slammed into his helm.

Rampage growled, ripping his extra limbs from Depth Charge as he dodged another swoop at his helm. The racket of more approaching Maximals was enough to make Rampage transform and speed off, swerving to avoid the gunfire suddenly being shot at him. Not quick enough it seemed to avoid being seen.

He sped off, easily escaping into a hole under rock formations that would only keep the Maximals from following if they decided to shoot.

Slagging Maximals.

Rampage transformed and started walking the dark path. As disappointing as it was to lose his toys and a chance at playing with Depth Charge more, it just meant he could anticipate the time he got a hold of them again. Next time, he was going to savor taking his old friend and dragging the kitten back into their game.

**Author's Note:**

> There are plans for two more chapters. One with this aftermath and another of more bad things happening.


End file.
